


Fuckin Fouettés

by Travikus



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 2 years after, Blowjobs, Body Worship, Connor is a piece of art, Connor: become a dancer, Deepthroating, Don't Read This, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gavin smokes vape, Gavin's a sweetheart, Gavin's not a douche, M/M, Mild Language, More Fluff, Obsession, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Stalking, everybody's a sweetheart, lame puns, more fluff than necessary, so badly written, very lame puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-10-28 01:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travikus/pseuds/Travikus
Summary: Connor is a contemporary dancer.Gavin is a goner.





	1. Don't say you're sorry don't say forgive me

**Author's Note:**

> This is shitty work. Strictly advised against reading it, Lol.  
> One day I'll fix it. Or not
> 
> If you're a Russian speaker, read the translation of the piece I made a couple of weeks ago on ficbook. It worked out much better. Pazmobulus is who I am there.
> 
> It all began [on a snowy January night, lol] when I saw [THIS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiHqcrVJm98).  
> Then, I found out that his name was Conor McKenzie (one n) and have been doomed since.  
> I believe I have to thank Ariana Grande as well.  
> [Conor McKenzie's channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBAi77tmunzymEI220qMUmA)  
> God, I love how he moves.

It’s not like he jumped all over himself to dress up for this event. No, seriously. He just had to hire a tuxedo and shoes. Nothing too fancy, just a simple 2 grand suite, saving the rest for a fancier scotch and the year load of his favourite vape liquids. Kamski was a douche and all, but when he sponsored it was a crime not to use it to the fullest.

Well, anyway, there he was, getting out of the taxi in front of Michigan Opera House. Hank was already there inside, champaign in one hand and a leaflet in another. It was the second time Gavin saw him this shy and excited at the same time. The first one had been when Anderson got promoted to chief of Detroit police. Two years ago was it?

They got one of the boxes front seats, who would have doubted. Thanks, bro. Reed had been to the Opera House before. When he was a child, they would go and see some great premiere every now and whenever they could afford it - that time Eli was just a smart kid with a refined taste but mom loved opera. Nothing changed. A HUGE chandelier in the middle of the air was still threatening to kill half the audience would it fall down as they did in the old movies. Though, the sound of an orchestra warming up was brought all those memories from his late teens. Except for today, they came to a ballet performance with a mysterious dancer who Hank wanted him to see so much - he had insisted Gavin to come. Alright, as long as he wasn't the one to buy, he wouldn't mind hanging out around all these people who seem to have put much thought in how they looked and smelled, and walked and talked. Phck. Also, bodies of ballet dancers were always a sight to behold.

The orchestra started to calm down. A short dude came before it, bowed to the audience, raised the pit and bowed again with the orchestra people. The lights were going down, the monstrosity of the chandelier started its way up into the ceiling. Were the opera night from his childhood magical, Gavin wouldn't say, but they definitely did something to him. He'd call it butterflies in his stomach if he wasn't Gavin Reed and gave an actual shit about how he felt instead of just, you know, feeling. He cursed, shut up in awe, and let his jaw fall and stay ajar when it was beyond that.

This piece was supposed to be contemporary. First cords let a fleet of goosebumps all over his forearms. Then the dancers appeared. Light as feathers, painfully beautiful, making believe it was all piece of pie.

The piece was about existence and making a choice, weaknesses and strengths of an ordinary person, displayed by perfect bodies in smooth moves, breathtaking music and mindboggling stunts to go with it. It was all kind of clear to him but at the same time, it wasn't as if he was watching the show from afar as if it didn't concern him at all. Until the prima came out right in the middle of the stage wearing only skin-colour tights, looking all distant and unappreciated with his exaggerated faux LED lights glowing on both sides of his head. Everything fell into place now. The existence and the choice were those of the android's.

Silence fell. And then, there were drums again and a jump and a fall when every internal organ in Gavin's body just dropped with it. Harsh strings continued accompanied by primal low drum rhythm. The brass was guttural - like a leviathan's dying moan - joining the strings and then going down. Then, the man on the stage started moving. It almost physically hurt to watch the half-closed eyes, a deep frown, impossible moves like he didn't even touch the fucking floor. Inhuman grace and awfully human feelings he was channelling. Elves could move like this - Gavin thought - if they were real. He was hypnotised by the lines of the "android's" body tangling and unravelling, stretching, falling into pieces in the middle of the air and reassembling on the ground. Reed could feel tears running down his cheeks and dripping down from his jaw, but didn't care until it was too late and the lights were up and the people around him were standing up applauding the shit out of their palms and getting the fuck out of there - perplexed expressions on their faces. Hank blew his nose next to him, eyes red and swollen. At least there was that, Gavin thought, dabbing his own face dry with the shirt sleeve under the tux.

They were hanging out near the buffet, although neither Hank nor Gavin were in the mood for drinking as were half of the people from the audience, all walking around with flutes of sparkling champaign. Hank told him they'd wait for the lead dancer. Yeah, right. As if he gives two fucks about some random lieutenant and the chief of police. Well, maybe he owed something to the latter. That could be.

Finally, the doors opened and two tall figures entered the hall. Both wearing high hills, both smiling wide, looking all glorious. One face Reed could swear he'd seen somewhere before. Round of applause went off and silenced as the second man raised his hand and took a glass from the lead dancer.

"On behalf of the Michigan Opera House and Detroit Ballet Company, I raise this glass to our new prima. Please give a big hand to our new star, Connor Anderson!" And there he was. In the middle of a cheering crowd realizing just now who had made his heart stop not once with all of his gorgeous shit. He felt burning alive. Connor was smiling a little shyly to the people around, but sparks of joy and excitement were floating in his warm brown eyes. He looked at Hank and gave him a big bright smile completely ignoring Reed. The two ballet guys went mingling with the crowd. He couldn't take his eyes off of Connor. Every step he made was a performance, every move - elegant, Reed could bet his speech was also inhumanly neat. His cheekbones and chin seemed sharper. Was he tired or did Gavin imagine it?

"Hank, I'm so glad you came!"  
"Sure thing, my boy! How's it been? Do they treat you right?" They hugged each other warmly.  
"Detective." Connor gave Reed a short nod.  
"He's a lieutenant now", Hank said because Gavin was in that stage swallowed by a storm of emotions he could hardly analyse.  
"Oh. Congratulations!" Gavin said something between thanx and phck on the edge of hearing. "So, how has it been as a chief of police?"  
"Remember that yelling dude in the office, Fowler was his name?"  
"Oh, shit."  
"Exactly."

That night Gavin found himself checking out all kinds of media the Net had to offer on Connor Anderson from the Detroit Ballet Company. Not that he was very surprised, but there was no time for any analysis bullshit. He accidentally saved a couple of pictures on his home terminal to a New Folder. Then, spent a couple of hours watching a few videos again and again and somehow ended up buying the cheapest tickets to the next show. There were twelve in the season. The same cast starring every night. This absolutely useless information somehow occupied his brain - he finally could fall asleep around 4 am, having planned his budget up until June. Guess, what dreams he had that night? Spinning Connor, jumping Connor, Connor doing arabesques and pirouettes, or just standing all gorgeous with his arms up looking divine as fuck.

"We took off the same time yesterday. Why do you look shittier than I do?"  
"Morning and fuck off, old man." Reed fell in the chair before his terminal, logging in. "Actually", he said matter-of-factly, "How long has it been going on?"  
"Exactly what?" it took Hank a couple of moments to process. "Ah, that? As soon as Connor left the police, I guess."  
"You guess? Haven't you been living together and all that?" Reed bit his tongue, too late -- Hank frowned. "I mean.."  
"I know exactly what you mean. He's like a son to me, dickhead." A tight knot in Gavin's stomach untangled as he was able to breathe again normally. He didn't realize he had been holding it all that time and probably had said that just to check the ground. Fuck. "I don't know why I even bothered taking you with me? Like, no idea, seriously. Zero appreciation. What was I thinking". Hank continued mumbling on his way to the break room, leaving Gavin to his thoughts that were soon interrupted by a call. Thank fuck.

2\. Gavin spent next show in a trance, paralyzed, not being able to take his eyes off of the stage. He remained seated after the theatre had gone half empty.  
He was at a half-empty vape liquid tank - hands still shaking - when he let the thought sink in. He was absolutely helplessly, agonizingly hopelessly in love.  
He was standing behind the concert hall, leaning back against a cold wall, not wanting to go back home. A little more of this magic world, if you please, with rainbows and unicorns, free booze and Connor fucking Anderson moving like a god with hundreds of eyes watching his every move. An unpleasant feeling touched his gut at this thought. He pushed it away and focused on the sweet, sweet longing in his veins. He shifted to stand upright but then fell back against the wall again with a sigh. Not yet. He's not ready to leave.  
That moment a door at the other corner of the building opened and let out a bunch of loudly laughing graceful people. Reed pulled the hood down to cover his face, but none of them paid him much attention. He saw one person turning to him and their look piercing him. He had no idea who that was, as they were too far away from him. Anyway, they quickly turned back to the group of people and joined their fun on the way to the subway station. Reed regarded them until they turned the corner then followed. Home. He went home.

3\. Same corner. Same jacket. He shaved this time. Just for the hell of it. And hands were shaking less, almost not noticeable. The image was still in front of his eyes: perfect calves, long beautiful fingers ending graceful arms, the sharpness of moves, effortless defying of gravity. And there they were walking out of that door again, talking routines and laughing. There, Connor was among them. By this time Reed could recognize him from his colleagues. The figure had imprinted in his head. He knew his smooth moves in real life as well as on the stage. The figure made a seemingly careless step amiss a stair and made it look like he had to spin not to fall down. For just a moment, he looked directly at Gavin. He pushed the vape firing button instinctively to take a drag but didn't. He saw them off to the same corner with his eyes and only then pulled sweet steam in. Just to curse loudly as the vape burned his mouth with spats of hot liquid.

4\. To Connor Anderson. Apologies? -- the card in the box with snowy white roses read. That was absolutely inappropriate, but Gavin couldn't help it. He was going to contact him somehow because the creepiness of what he had been doing 3 nights in a raw was annoying. It was fucking harassment alright. And Gavin hated his own guts for not being able to come up and say hi. He looked at the roses again, ghosting the long stems with his palm. Perfect. Like the unreachable guy from the upper-class art bunch. Should have he written apologies? It wouldn't cover it, would it? Shit! He caught a thorn with his thumb, too. Fuck.  
"Can I change the capture, please?"  
"Sure." The android in a flower shop smiled politely. "What would you like it to be?"  
"Just 'To Connor Anderson'" Coward. "Shit. I'm real sorry."  
He ran out of the shop and to the nearest coffee shop and ordered himself a latte with as much marshmallow as they could fit into the glass plus double syrup. Caffeine and sugar made him think straight again (or got him high and completely screwed up). He asked if the guy in a flower shop next door usually gets anything there and got him his usual flavoured Thirium drink.  
The android greeted him with a small understanding smile and only then paid attention to the drink Reed had put on the counter. "You really didn't have to." He put out his box again from under the table - the flowers still there. "So what do we write?"  
"To Connor Anderson. Apologies. Reed." WOW. " Apologies. Period".  
"As you say, Mr Reed." The guy was obviously amused.

That night he didn't stay after the show. 'Enough idle obsessing, right?' he told himself and made himself comfortable on the sofa with a beer and a streaming app with the documentary of the same performance.

 

"Hey, see you in 30?"

"Sure". Connor was tramping to his dressing room, posture down, slouched a little. He could honestly still walk tall and prance around like a fine piece of art he was but had to pretend for the sake of disguise. Or was he pretending? Physique wasn't hard at all. He literally could practice for days non-stop and remain unscathed. The dancing itself was another dimension. It demanded excessive processing powers - to feel, to be. He thought it would get better with time, but it didn't. Perfection he was craving challenged him to get out of his own skin more and more each time, to do what only humans - and the strongest of them - were able to do. But that was what he enjoyed the most.  
He was really tired.

Bouquets and boxes were all over the place. As usual. He didn't give them much thought, he enjoyed his little ritual about the cards, though. So he just kicked his ballet slippers off, carefully removed the double faux LED from his temples and went to the shower to clean his partners' sweat off of himself. He grew his hair back to the right length, put on some thick greyish sweatpants, a shruggy plain T-shirt and white sneakers.  
He wondered for a second if the guy would come again to smoke behind the theatre. He stopped scanning random people a long time ago, but that dude had been there 3 times. Might as well poke at him for the hell of it. Was he a fan, too, or one of the workers?  
Connor would usually sit in the chair facing the door, surrounded by flowers, pretending to have a nap in case somebody enters, to look through his performance. Whether he felt enough through each move, whether he was able to undergo each vibe of the music. But the bunch of soloists he grew close to had planned a sleepover at somebody's - he will have to do it another time. So he sat in that chair and picked up the first box to his left. Inside there were a dozen snowy white roses and a card. Connor ghosted tender buds with his fingers and opened the card. Apologies? That was something new. Intrigued, he couldn't help but scan the insides of the box for evidence. Once a detective - always a detective. 'This is too easy.' The mysterious sender had forgotten his DNA on a thorn. Might as well have signed the card. He picked the rose by the bud, brought the evidence to his face and touched the thorn with his tongue. Was he not respecting the person's privacy by doing that? 2 years ago he would never even have bothered with such a question. Too late.

GAVIN REED, MALE. LIEUTENANT, DPD. DATE OF BIRTH: OCTOBER 7, 2002. NO CRIMINAL RECORD

Pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The pose, the smoking. Connor compared the body measurements he had from the previous job with the recording of the guy smoking behind the opera house. A. Perfect. Match. In a daze, he attended to the other cards and gifts: read them all and catalogued in his memory as usual. He was finishing when he heard laughter, swearing and light scent of a joint becoming louder in the corridor and then a knock on his door.  
"Coming."

Later that night after a marathon of old shitty dancing movies people were sleeping around the loft apartment. Connor was sitting in a chair on the balcony, fiddling with a phone which he needed only to blend in, watching the city. He ran lazy scans of the area in view just to busy himself. There was a block with the Detroit Police Department and Gavin Reed as an association stuck to it. He accessed the contact list in front of his eyes, scrolled back and forth idly before choosing the recipient. Not that going through all this was necessary.

4.8 Sunday  
4:02 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Thanks for the flowers.

It blinked read right that second.

4:05 DETECTIVE ASSHOLE  
Got the card too then?

It took Connor a bit to change Reed's name in the contact list.  
4:05 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
I did.

4.9 Monday  
13:04 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
Whatcha doing

13:04 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Practising.

13:10 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
So how's it going?

13:10 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Eat your lunch, Gavin.

20:46 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
Hey.

20:46 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Hey [poop emoji]

20:47 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
Hard day? Wanna talk?

20:47 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
How is your stung finger? Healing?

20:49 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
Bitch

20:49 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
[shit eating grin emoji]

4.15 Saturday  
00:12 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Are you coming tomorrow (tonight)?

00:14 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
sure

5\. One more 37$ seat, a simple white dress shirt and his dad's old rifle scope in the right hand. He got side looks from the people with theatre binoculars. Oh well, fuck off.  
The orchestra tuning made his heart feel home and the butterflies in his stomach spread their wings. The lights, the chandelier -- all familiar to the T. Fucking ushers had greeted him like an old friend, showing him to his place he'd knew how to get to from the second time round, thank you very much.

Connor scanned through the people in the audience in a night vision mode during his first few seconds on stage. Without having to compare all of them to the database but just find one person, he quickly spotted Reed in a seat at a far end of the space. Gavin Reed had his hair combed neatly back and was holding a rifle scope instead of a proper binocular. Cute. Switching the vision back to default a moment after was easier than shutting the thinking process down, but the music helped.

Tonight Connor's performance was a little bit different as if cracked here and there. And through those cracks, an even more painful tension was chilling out. In his eyes, light flickered, little sparkles could be seen as he had his head turned to the audience.

Connor couldn't have waited for his colleagues, he told them. He quickly ran through his after show routine. A dark red rose on his dressing table had been tied up with a black ribbon, fixing a crumpled note to the stem. It said, "can I pick you up tonight". No question mark, written by a human hand. 'Text messages don't work anymore, it figures', he thought and sent a text with the thought to Reed. It was left unread. He put his white sneakers on, grabbed the bag and headed out. Connor knocked on one of the doors, scheduling rehearsals for the following week, waved a couple of see-you-laters, walking along the long corridor.

The moment he heard the door at the other end of the back of the theatre move, Gavin took the last drag of the vape, pushing off the wall, switched the tube off and put it in a pocket of his jacket on his way towards the light from the building, exhaling unhesitatingly to his right.

The door had a tricky locking system from the inside. He handled it quickly and pushed the door out, making a step toward the opposite end of the building, only to stop himself an inch from bumping into Gavin Reed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ballet music I imagined something between [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKxBKACyn2I) and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bodbWApsqDE). Or whichever you picture best, really.


	2. What's next

How could a man be so perfect? He thought he had been a fool all that time considering the slightest chance for even forgiveness, let alone being... OK, friends could do. Seriously, though? Chicken much, Gavin? He couldn't take his eyes off of Connor's collarbones, feeling the android's stare on his forehead. He wanted to reach out so badly. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets clenching the vape and keys. Sharp alabaster lines above the collar of Connor's shirt were trying him for all his crimes. At some point, presumably this century, he would have to raise his head and meet the eyes.

"Hey", he heard from above, and a breath touched his hair.

"Hey", he said to Connor's clavicles and forced himself to look at the android. The stare was the most intense he had ever got. Dark brown eyes were kind and a little tense as if not sure of what would happen next, ready for everything and hoping for nice things. "I'm sorry?", he repeated sheepishly wincing a little.

Tension almost left the eyes, "Apology accepted, Gavin," he said all businesslike, and then he fucking took his hand. "Care for a walk?", and lead him from the theatre in the direction Reed gave zero fucks about.

"I was surprised to hear from you, frankly speaking. You didn't look like you'd enjoyed the performance that night with Hank," Gavin choked on how badly Connor was wrong, but couldn't say a word.  
The android's tone was a bit finical or was it only in the beginning? Or did Reed get used to it so fast?  
He clearly had been waiting for his answer, but Gavin was so mesmerized with the sensation of his hand in Connor's, the sound of his voice so close to him, his graceful stride right beside him, that he made a conscious decision to keep his mouth shut at all costs just to prevent any embarrassing sounds that could escape him. "Well, anyway, I'm glad you came again". Then, Connor looked at him and smiled. Like really smiled, nice and sincere. Gavin almost died.

He felt utterly stupid. Like an unpopular teenager on the prom with a queen of the fucking school. Unable to say anything nearly coherent, breath hitching every time he looked at the android. One half of him was writhing in anxiety. The other half was in constant awe. No fun, Gavin, no fun! Worst first date ever even on his account. (Date? What?) Red fucking alert! Remains of consciousness kicked in. "Hey, Connor?" he hoarsed.

Connor stopped and turned to him. Only now he seemed to notice he hadn't let go of his hand. He unclenched his fingers, wide-eyed, and took a step back. They were standing in the middle of the park awkwardly, staring at each other. "A coffee could really help," Gavin said finally, dragging his hand over his face, and stepped closer back to the android just to be a little shorter and look up when he added: "It's been a long fuckin day." Connor never blinked or changed the expression, just took his hand again. Gavin had to follow him. Damn, by his age and time spent working at the police, he must have known Detroit through and through. Yet here he was, with no idea of where to get a decent cup of coffee that late at night in this fancy-ass area.

Coffee and sugars did the trick.  
"I saw him jumping at me from behind. I mean, come on, mirror wall, surprise, bitch! That guy was the last one from the gang. It was sheer damn luck I decided to go have a look around. Outside, there was a full fucking party: Allen with his boys apprehending the perps, Hank glowing with pride and looking like he owned the place." Connor beamed so happily Gavin thought he'd break his face in half. Gavin couldn't help smiling himself (while secretly choking on how utterly fucked up he was). As if he'd never heard that story. Hank and Connor were friends and partners for most of his life, for fuck's sake. Millionth time was it that he was hearing this story? "Anyway, then, there was a parade and sixty-six bloody fucking trombones in Hank's name. Fowler flipped us all off and gladly retired, having Hank inherit the shitload of work which is a captain's fucking job, right."

He stopped to see Connor's reaction, sipping coffee through a straw, kicking up his feet under the high table. An absent-minded smile settled on the android's beautiful face as if the story was playing itself before his dreamy eyes. He was so goddamn perfect.

"Is he OK?" Connor asked.

"Who, Hank? He's fine. More of an ass, if you ask me, but being bossman screws with your brain, so it's bearable. He's found someone, too."

"Oh!" the android looked bewildered. "And he never told me, of all things!"

"Sneaky bastard." They chuckled at that and talked some more about Hank. Then switched back to Gavin. They talked about cases, humans and androids they both knew, and a bunch of brand new motorcycles the DPD had acquired not long ago. Talking about work was safe. It wasn't date-like, and Gavin loved it. 

god  
damn  
coward

6\. The police had been rummaging through old cold cases trying to connect some dots that needed connecting, and it'd been taking the whole of his energy and consuming all his time. He and Tina had been sitting days and nights in the archive room. They got out only to talk to the witnesses who either had forgotten about the ordeal or had been too frustrated with waiting to be called in. The thing needed solving right then, and there hadn't been a sight of the end of it.

Tin stood up and stretched. "You need anything?"

"I'm good. Thanks, sis". He was sitting on the floor, waggling a stylus in his teeth, a tablet in his hands, a focused frown on his forehead.

She entered 5 minutes later with two cups anyway, put one of them on the desk and the other next to Gavin on the floor. She fished his mobile out of her pocket: "I've got your phone. Figured you'd want to see who the annoying piece of shit was. Pissed off half the station. Fucking persistent!"

Gavin stared at the coffee for a second as if it materialized out of nowhere. Scrolled down some more on the tablet. Raised his eyes to see Tina handing him the phone he must have forgotten in his jacket up there. Shit. "Thanks," Still frowning, he put the phone beside him and reached for the coffee. The smell was too good to resist. The phone clicked with a notification. It popped up on the screen. 'Would you like to see something grand?' He swallowed hard, burning his mouth with hot, fucking hot coffee, thanks Tina, god damn you.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, standing up quickly and walking out, work forgotten. There was a fucking video file. He turned his phone to silent and played it: a class of perfectly built ballet people were squatting deep and brushing the floor with their hands slightly, then standing up, changing their position and doing it again. No Connor in sight. That prick.

4.16  
16:01 Lieutenant Reed  
har fuckin har

16.01 Connor  
^_____________________^

There was also a string of earlier messages. All messing around. Lots of 'heys', 'sups' and various emojis.

"What is this that I can see there?" Tina could clearly guess the content of the messages by his ridiculously wide shit-eating smile. "Who's the lucky dude, lieutenant?"

"I am, bitch," he said, grinning at her. "But I'm not telling you anything!"

"I'm not asking you to, bro" she put her hands up, grinning back warmly.

7\. "We've got the whole fucking interactive wall in pins and notes. And it's getting more and more crowded each goddamn day. It's a fed case, honest to god. But like fuck we're handing it to them. We're this close!" Not that Connor needed to know all of it, but he was polite enough to ask follow-up questions. Or did Gavin notice a glimpse of nostalgia? 

They talked about the old days now. Pre-android revolution, too, and how things had changed since then. Until Gavin felt like he had to apologise again, and Connor had to reassure him again he was not holding grudges. Gavin found it hard to believe and promised himself to fix this. He didn't figure out how yet.

They were sitting in a cocktail bar near the opera house. Gavin was getting his evening dose of nicotine, slowly letting out thick clouds of steam.

So they just changed the topic then. The android had had a hard time recovering after all the pressure during the revolution. Work at the police no longer satisfied his deviant cravings for feeling deeper and more. So one day he found himself on a club dancefloor. "Another red-ice undercover operation. You were also there," Gavin frowned in confusion, mouth forming a "w". "Oh, come on, detective..."

"Lieutenant," Gavin corrected.

"Back then it was detective, so shut up and let me finish," Connor said lightly like they had been good friends for ages. "You were wearing that look-at-me-I'm-so-gay torn up glittery tee and tight as fuck je..."

"I did not! I borrowed that top from a friend! Undercover, bitch. Google it!" Connor burst out in a songlike laugh. Gavin’s panic must be clearly on display. "Shut it, tin can," Reed rubbed his red face with the back of his hand.

"I appreciated the jeans though," the android said with a coy smile, and Gavin was gone. Flustered and sweating, he recalled the operation as well as the looks Connor had been throwing at him the whole night before they busted the perps. Damn, that was not at all right. The fuck had Connor been thinking!?

Reed apologised again and almost got his ass off the bar chair for bringing that up one more time.

"So anyway," Connor said, catching him and helping regain his balance, "there was that song with a puffy deep beat and orchestral strings that made me feel... incomplete? and I had to do something, but I couldn't get fucking destructed during the op, right?!" Gavin had never seen the android that agitated before. It was breathtaking. "So I saved the tune for later.

"I had to go somewhere to see what else it could do to me and if I could catch that feeling again. It must sound really boring to you. I'm...,"

"You fuckin crazy?" Connor looked completely different from what Gavin was used to. That childish light of painful curiosity was flickering in the beautiful wide eyes of his, you know, that one which if not satisfied would hurt like a motherfucker until fucking paid in full. The tiniest shy smile was playing on his lips. He wanted to touch those lips so badly. The android's cheeks were getting paler until they got a little blueish. Fuck. Gavin licked his lips to make them part and say "please, go on," then bit his lip at realising how that could have looked like.

"Anyway," Connor tore his gaze off of the movement, "since then, I had tried a dozen of styles and studios until I found one that could satisfy me the fullest".

8\. He was spinning with his face up and his long gorgeous arms to the invisible sky, as if there was ice beneath him. His leg did a swing move at even intervals to help him keep the motion almost unnoticeable until it held there stretched to the side and the spinning slowed down and then stopped when Connor dropped to the floor as if wanting to crush his entire existence against it. There was an agonising string drag up the scale. Every time, Gavin wanted to scream along to help it destroy his heart because why would you need one malfunctioning that badly.

9\. And then they were sitting somewhere downtown sharing fucking stories from the past or just how they got through the shitty day: about Hank and Connor's partnership, new androids assigned to work at the DPD, Gavin's partners, new cases, old cases, Connor’s dancing partners, rehearsals, routines and his bohemian kind of lifestyle.  
Connor was right in front of him. Close, alive, real, touchable. And Gavin was fucking gone through and through.

 

5.18 Friday  
20:00 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
How's the day?

20:30 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Gavin?

21:00 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
[angry emoji]

He started texting half an hour later. Dropped it. Texted again at ten, then decided against it as the human probably had his life going. Then he wanted to text Hank and had to stop himself. Going into stasis was essential before tomorrow’s performance, but an error interfered with the stasis protocol. He had done everything planned. The whole situation was utterly annoying. He polished the flat shining, fiddled with his appearance in front of the mirror just because he could, then ran through the routines in his mind once again, lying on the couch.

5.18  
23.46 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
sup tin can

23.46 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Where the hell have you been, asshole?

23.56 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
Gavin, are you OK???

5.19 Saturday  
2.03 LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE  
all good  
LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE is texting  
don't lose me tomorrow  
LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE is texting  
I'll text when I can  
LIEUTENANT ASSHOLE is texting  
...  
...  
2.04  
sleep well

2.04 Connor RK800 313 248 317-51  
You too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate doing it. I also hate chapters ending like something terrible is going to happen. spoiler alert: [It's not.] But I'm stuck somewhere there. I've got a writer's block and it's bad. Too much love for the boys, too much pressure because of it. Gotta do as close to perfect as I can.


	3. Very bad puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very, very bad puns. But then everything gets better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating's up  
> see the added tags
> 
> it's my first time. be gentle with me  
> all mistakes are my own.

10\. It'd been a particularly fucked up weekend, started on Friday evening. But the work was successfully finished. The cartel busted, confessions obtained, minor injuries mended. Gavin then slept until 4 pm the next day, woke up with a feeling of being a sack of potato with a piercing headache. Welcome, the adrenaline withdrawal! Plus that fucking head of his. Limbs numb and not wanting to move, all body heavy as fuck. He scrambled himself off the bad and went to the kitchen. There were aspirin and his vape. He took the pills and filled the tank of the vape half a minty nicotine liquid, half grape without the drug. Extra nicotine must help the pain. That was immediate. He would deal with the rest then.  
Stomach gave out a tiny gurgling sound with the first drag. He'd probably last eaten around yesterday morning and forgot to stock his fridge, too. He found a can of flavourless soy protein. The good stuff had apparently gone to an end as well. He made a shake. It tasted like his emotional state: dull and colourless with a hint of despondency. It was nutritious and served his needs. At least there was that. At some point that day he might even feel better.  
Gavin put on some boxers and walked out on the balcony. His phone in one hand, the protein shake in another. It wasn't cold, but fresh air still felt nice, washing over his body. He stared at his phone for some time, finished his tasteless drink and put it on the window seal outside, then stared at the phone again.  
His texts to Connor seemed rude and negligent now. He couldn't bear if the android felt that. Gavin didn't care that he had been collaboratively working with SWAT, getting the surveillance ready. He himself snooped around the place like your fucking Spider-boy, fixing the shit as if there were nobody more suitable for that job, specialized, younger, too. But they hadn't had time to call respective services. Finally, the night of the bust came, and it was so important not to fuck shit up. Still, he could have done better. He could have snatched a couple of seconds to answer, send proper messages, show that he'd been thinking about Connor and that the android was important to him. Very fucking important!  
The phone vibrated suddenly. It startled Gavin so that he almost threw it off his 13th floor trying to stop his hands' hectic movements. When he finally fetched it from the air, he saw the notification with the text, saying 'Wanna hang?'

 

In transport, Connor listened to music as any sane person would. His hands though moved on their own, mocking feet moves - little circles and shuffles as if against the invisible floor. Occasionally he would swing back his shoulders a little, startling people around. Embarrassed, he would sit straight back again. That looked not at all sane, but with his dreamy gaze into nowhere, he could pass for a harmless freak. Or a dancer-choreographer. rA9 knew what music did to him. Also, there was something else. Someone.

Connor grabbed some Mexicans' on his way. Along went a pack of beers and 2 cans of Thirium for himself. How excited was it that he was invited in? Well, technically, he indirectly had invited himself. Anyways, he strode down the street and felt that quaint warmth under his chest panel, somewhere in his glowing blue gut wires.

He knocked on the door, holding his breath (what?). After a few moments - still not breathing - he heard footsteps behind it. Hesitant and as if tired. They stopped suddenly, then continued, sounding closer this time. 'Shit' Connor heard on the edge of his sensors and felt even tenser than before. When the door handle finally went down, Connor had been almost at the point of a minor shutdown. He had to dismiss a couple dozen processes to steady himself.

 

'Shit.' He looked like shit, he felt like shit, full of guilt and exhaustion. He imagined Connor standing behind the door, all perfect as always. He opened the door nonetheless. There he was, the android had his hair in messy curls, bouncing in every direction freely. His eyes were a little too wide and mouth slightly open. That not composed as usual state of his made Gavin's breath hitch. Somehow, not perfect made the look even more precious. Gavin wanted to touch his curls, stroke his lips and kiss his eyes. Badly.

"You're not breathing," Connor said. 

Oh, right. Gavin inhaled sharply. That was so much better. Yeah. Air's the best. "Neither are you," he remarked then.

"I am an android. I don't need oxygen."

"But you imitate the movements."  
"That I do," he offered the floor a small shy smile and restarted the protocol.

Gavin stepped away from the entrance to let Connor in.

Angels sang when he took the first bite at his burrito extra spicy. Connor meanwhile wandered around the place, making compliments on the colour combinations and simplicity of the spacious furnishing. Because staring was rude - he'd commented on that, excusing himself. Gavin followed him with his eyes, though they often threatened to close in content - the food was fucking delicious.

When he finished, he rummaged the take-out bag and fished out blue cans painted in hazardously bright colours. The cover said "Thirium. Stormy Night." He gave out an imbecilic giggle, saying "Two tin cans for a tin can" and earned a deadpan look. "Sorry." Then giggled some more. "Help your tin can with a tin can. How many tin cans can a tin can can? Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. I can't." Gavin was laughing hysterically. Tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Well, obviously you can't. Get me that rump steak and put it in a sack for my meat sack." The unamused look never broke. "When you wear jeans can you call them a meat sack?"

"I don't call my jeans."

"OK, that was bad." But the android's lips still curled into a smile for a second.

"I know." Gavin still chuckled, wiping tears with the bottom of his T-shirt. "Oh, fuck." He stood up and cleaned the counter, swearing quietly about how stupid he was. But he definitely felt way better than when the day had started.

"Sooo, what have you been doing?" Connor grabbed a can of Thirium and cracked it open, heading for the couch.

"Working like a dog." Connor chuckled. "I would ask you about the performance, but I already know the answer."

"Oh, you do now, do you?" Connor smiled wryly, then turned to him as if remembered something, giving him a probing look. His LED would have turned yellow, Gavin thought.

"What?" He brought himself a glass of water and put it on the armrest of the couch, where the android was sitting.

"Do you want to see the dance from my perspective?"

Gavin stared at Connor's eyes incredulously. "Shit, sure!" he whispered - his mouth went dry. He reached for the water.

Connor quickly interfaced with the big TV screen and set the settings.

The action started from just behind the stage. The camera was facing the floor, then - his feet in his skin-colour ballet slippers. He put them one by one on points, on tips, then - turned the feet inward and stood on his curled toes for a few moments. His fingers twitched nervously a little and he tried to relax them by waving his arms and hands. But that was mostly out of sight of the camera. Then, they saw the other side across the stage. There were a couple of people who signalled to Connor, but he didn't respond. The music had already been closing to his entrance. The picture suddenly moved around and up, and down again - Connor must have rolled his head around. And that was just a warm-up.

Connor didn't let him watch even through the first 10 minutes. He stopped the recording and turned to him - eyes worried. Gavin's heart had been probably threatening to explode, beating so fast. His head was spinning. How could it not? He couldn't leave the android spin all by himself on the stage! His palms were sweaty, eyes must have looked wild.

"I'm sorry for the rollercoaster," the android said softly, reaching for his forearm. The touch burned his skin and Gavin jerked it away awkwardly.

He stood up, took Connor's empty can and walked to the fridge, unsteady. "Yeah, that was intense." He opened a beer and poured it in a tall glass. He settled at the counter in front of the couch, watching Connor. The android's eyes were full of guilt and embarrassment. "Hey, it's OK, Con, you hear me? It was fun! In a way. Besides, I gotta be the only person who had a chance to see what I saw. Wow." He smiled to himself more than to Connor. "I like my seat in the audience more, though." There was a pause. Connor threw embarrassed glances at him, which he could only read as the android was sorry for showing him the video. Damn.

"Hey, what the hell Stormy Night means?" Gavin took a can from the counter and was turning it in his hands. "Can I try it?" He fiddled with the pull tag.

In the nick of time, Connor was beside him, grabbing the can from his hands. "What the fuck, Gavin?" burst Connor. "Only you could have got this stupid idea. It's toxic, you silly sack of bones!" 

Good! Gavin gave his inner self a high five. He tried to take a sniff from the can, but Connor was already on his way back to the couch. Gavin made the hardest of efforts not to check out his ass. The android's stride was one of a dancer, not a police officer anymore. He swang his body lightly and grace was in his every fucking move.

"Well, does it smell? How do you know it's a stormy night? Have you been to a storm? At night?" Connor rolled his eyes and Gavin praised himself. He grinned winningly, and Connor smiled back. Gavin was still feeling a little giddy, but the reasons changed.

"Cheers!" Gavin raised his beer glass, and Connor did the same with that Stormy Night: "Cheers!"

"Come on! Tell me! I'm curious as fuck!"

"Google it, dipshit."

Connor picked up some human speech, after all. Damn, it was hot. A perfect machine prototype, looking like a supermodel, cursed like a sail... like Gavin Reed. He was not the one to take credit for that. He was sure, it was Connor's bohemian bunch to blame.

Anyway. They horsed around for some more, watched some stupid videos, then watched how Thirium was flavoured, the fuck it actually meant, and how his drink today was different. Because, apparently, the Stormy fucking Night was not flavoured Thirium! It was a nano-modified drink that messed with android's coding slightly. Connor tried to explain what it felt like. But failed, as Gavin had already been laughing and making absurd puns on some random phrases he a got hold of from his explanation. He felt sorry for it but couldn't stop. Connor was just the right level of tipsy to join.

11\. They met a couple of times the following week to see a new exhibition by Marcus (guess, who) Manfred and to check out a new recently opened android bar. "No, humans are welcome too. But the range of drinks is mostly for androids. Music can be weird, no dancing or karaoke. We have different places for that." "You do?" "What I mean is a typical human could get bored there." "I am atypical then, or not human." But he was proud he was one, and Connor knew that too.

The bar was weird, no shit. Gavin still enjoyed it. The atmosphere was hypnotising, they had bizarre lightning there and walls - reflecting stuff. For music that night, they served a fully human classical jazz band. Connor's eyes shined in that lightning. He smiled a lot, and it made Gavin's heart flood with tenderness. He saw Connor to his house. With a mysterious look, the android handed him an envelope before entering his block.

Saturday evening. Gavin was met at the doors to the opera house and invited to one of the fanciest fucking boxes. Yes, there had been a plus one artist's invitation in his name in the envelope. How cool was that? He wore one of the best dress shirts he had and a very fucking nice tie. He was asked if he wanted beverages or a binocular. Why would he need a fucking binocular? He was sitting above the damn stage for fuck's sake and had his rifle scope with him, too. But 2 fingers of Lagavulin would be nice, thank you!

Gavin's heart stopped for a brief second when he saw the android walking towards him after the show. His breath hitched and palms went sweaty. He rubbed them against his pants. Connor's sharp cheekbones, chin and clavicles, his wide lively caring eyes, beautiful thin wrists, now hidden in long sleeves of a hoody. The sweat pants too, Gavin knew exactly what kind of legs were there underneath. Gorgeous fucking legs. The ones that made gravity Connor's bitch. He was sure the android could fuck all other laws of physics would he want that.

Gavin cleared his throat as Connor approached.

"Are you checking me out?" the android asked, amusement sloshing about in his eyes.

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts into an answer: "No, not at... OK, yeah, absolutely, I am checking you out. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I would see where it goes." Shit! He grabbed Gavin's hand again like he'd done that first time after the show. Everything went numb in Gavin's body. White noise in his head, weakness in his arms and legs. He just looked at the android with, no doubt, the dumbest look in his entire life. His face must have turned into a very fucking red tomato, too. 

But Connor didn's seem to mind. He took his hand closer and fucking covered it with his other one. Gavin was torn between screaming his lungs out and melting down.

He was perfectly aware of his total loss of control and the reason for it. It scared the shit out of him as well as evoked a sensation he was sure he wasn't capable of. For once Gavin chose to fuck it all and chase after the feeling.

"Coffee?"

"Bless your fucking circuits, tin can." 

The tension dissipated as they walked down the street. The android chuckled, but then his expression got somewhat preoccupied.

"You can't call me that out here in public. Somebody could overhear and start a hell of a shitshow. I wouldn't want to even start any preconstruction processes on what to do if this happens."

They stopped at a coffee place.

"Sorry. Phck," Gavin muttered. He ordered his coffee.

"It's fine. I don't mind, really. Just not in the downtown," Connor replied. His arm twitched like he wanted to touch him again but thought better of it. He probably was right as Gavin was getting out a cup of hot coffee.

"You know, you text in even intervals? Fishy too, if you ask me. Can get you caught one day."

"Yeah, I know. They think it's an OCD. You, humans, have a syndrome for every oddity of android behaviour. If you don't blow my cover, I will be fine."

 

After two more cappuccinos and a half tank of liquid vaporised, after all different kinds of topics they could bring up that night, they got to Connor's block at around way after midnight. There was that awkwardness again, but without wandering eyes and avoiding each other's glances. Gavin couldn't look anywhere but at the android. Connor's expression was hard to read. That perfect face. Perplexed, laughing, acting during a dance - always perfect, and Gavin could never get enough of it. As if it ever could begin to cover what he was feeling, he said: "You dance beautifully".  
"Thanks for the evening," Connor chose to say the exact same moment, then flustered, then finished softly: "Gavin."

A hoard of goosebumps ran down Gavin's spine. He regarded Connor's face, searching for something that would excuse the softness in his voice. "How do you hide your robo blush from people, Con?" He brought his hand up and ghosted the android's blue-tinged cheekbone.

"I," Connor defensively jerked his hand up too, and it landed up in Gavin's, caressing the android's face for real now. "I don't blush," he said on the edge of a whisper, his cheeks turned a deeper blue. Never breaking eye contact, he interlaced their fingers, watching Gavin's reaction. Reed's head started swimming. He bit the inside of his lower lip. Connor's intense stare pinned him down. The atmosphere shifted. "Wanna come upstairs with me?" The look never changed, eye contact - never broken.

A wave of heat washed over Gavin. "A bit late for a fucking tea party." The stupidity of what he was saying didn't escape him. The fuck's going on, Gavin? He'd never been that shy with people! Was that too fast? Too straight forward? Was Connor too good to be true? Whether the android noticed his panic or decided not to, he cupped Gavin's face with one hand and leaned closer, looking at his lips with half-lidded eyes. The kiss he placed there was chaste and gentle. Reed's legs gave up. What the actual fuck?! If not for Connor, he would have folded down on the ground like a switched-off toy.

"Gavin?" The same almost whisper moved hairs just right behind his ear, and a shiver ran through his body. An arm around his waist held him closer to Connor's body. "That was certainly not the reaction I was aiming for," he smirked softly. "You OK there?"

"Yeah, I'm good." But his face was not. It was very pink and hot. "Fuck." He took a step back, standing on his own two legs, holding on Connor's forearm for support. He rubbed his face with a palm. What the fuck, right? But then... He stepped back closer to the android, took him by the back of his neck, pulling closer, and kissed him. Sensually, slowly. He was drawing breaths through his nose only not to stop. Ever. A piece of fucking art. Gavin was melting into the kiss, he felt warm hands on his sides, tugging lightly at his dress shirt. Fingers caressed his skin through the fabric, and he trembled lightly at every single touch. Gavin's hand was burning on the back of Connor's neck, stroking his hair, grazing the skin with the heel of his palm. His thumb went behind the android's ear, and Connor moaned ever so softly into his mouth. Shit! Gavin's tongue licked under the android's upper lip before going deeper. Connor's hand slid down the small of his back and pulled closer, hips crushing tight. Gavin gasped, the kiss - broken. He looked at Connor's lips longing for more, but then let the bigger picture sink in. The android, too, was watching him with a haze expression. Damn, he was beautiful like this. Gavin wanted to watch forever, touch forever and kiss him for fucking eternity.

Making out outside the apartment building was breathtakingly good, no shit, but have you tried taking it up into the apartment and get some privacy?

Blushing gorgeous bright blue, Connor chuckled softly, looking at Gavin. He took him by the hand and guided inside the building. 

All the way up, the android was holding his arm, his thumb - on Gavin's wrist. Under the gaze and the touch, Gavin started losing his footing again, as well as his fucking mind. He put a hand on Connor's chest to ground himself, touching smooth alabaster jugular notch just above the android's T-shirt collar with his very fingertips. Not helping!  
Connor was studying his face. There was a hint of hunger deep inside his irises that the android couldn't suppress.

Gavin landed on a wide couch barefoot, his tie had been lost somewhere in space and time, too. Connor was above him, cupping his face with one arm, looking at him with a strange expression. His eyes were slightly squinted. Curiosity was there, and just a tinge of superiority. Gavin loved it. Had Connor always had this kind of gaze? "You're gorgeous," Reed exhaled into the android's palm. Connor tilted his head to the side.

"I know, baby". Oh, fuck. 'Baby!' "You too," Connor smirked and leaned to kiss him on the red cheek just under his eye. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Gavin was losing his mind. But before he would, he pulled the android into a kiss while getting hands under his T-shirt, letting them wander over dry muscles of the dancer's upper body. Connor's eyes closed, letting his hand tighten in his hair. Gavin moaned and shifted down a bit to feel more of the pull. He felt the android's smile against his lips.  
"The fuck you smiling a-uh?" His breath hitched as Connor pushed back and straddled Gavin's hips, feeling Gavin's erection under his thighs. His eyes went hazy. He looked down at Gavin, slowly sliding a hand down his chest, moving his hips. At the sight and friction, Gavin let out a soft moan. Sharp cheekbones and half-lidded eyes with that condescending look, parted lips. Fuck me.

Gavin grabbed the hem of the android's T-shirt and sat up to pull it off of him. Connor slid down his hips to his lap, making them both groan. Connor's fingers did a quick job unbuttoning Gavin's shirt. He pushed Gavin back down and appreciated the view for a moment. Gavin could only fluster under the stare, tightening his grip on the android's hips.

Connor ran his fingers down his torso, watching him arch into the touch. He stopped at the hard abs and tried to grab it with a hungry expression never leaving his face. Gavin hummed. He tugged Connor's sweat pants down. The androids shifted his weight (and that felt heavenly) and let his pants down his thighs. Without leaving Gavin's hard dick alone without friction between his thighs, Connor moved his long muscled legs forward. Then, he lifted them, bending his knees, straightening them up, and took his sweat pants off with one hand.

Gavin almost died under the pressure and needed to catch his whimpers before they got out. "Show-off!" Panting. "I bet," panting, "you do it with all your lovers." Gavin slid his hands up and down the android's legs, caressing his inner thighs.

"But my blush appears to be reserved only for you." He looked smug as fuck, starting undoing Gavin's fly. "Besides, I wanted to keep feeling your cock." To that, Gavin whined, and it was fucking embarrassing. 

With Connor's eyes down, Gavin glanced down as well. Must have thought twice. The cocky divinity wore no underwear. Gavin's breath hitched in his throat, he felt his palms sweat. "Are you all fucking perfect?" Breathless, getting uncomfortable in his jeans. Whatever. "I want to put it in my mouth."

Connor's look shifted up to his face rapidly. His eyes - wide, torn between Gavin's eyes and lips. "Fuck, Gavin," He bent down and dug into Gavin's mouth, sucking and biting his lips and chin and neck. Gavin's eyes rolled back. He moaned and whined, tried to kiss back, but his sensual attempts were met with Connor's absolute ferocity. It was fucking perfect. You know what else was perfect? Connor stood on his four, caging Gavin underneath between his knees and arms. "You cannot say shit like that to people." Never averting his gaze, Connor started moving up Gavin's body until his hips were above his face.

The perfect cock was now right above his mouth. Gavin lifted his head impatiently to try and lick hairless balls. "Gavin, you're insane," Connor smirked incredulously, but his look was as desperate as Gavin's.

"'m losin' it here. Come on..."

Muttering countless 'shit' under his breath interlaced with white noise glitches, Connor inclined his cock and touched Gavin's parted lips with the head. 

Gavin took his sweet time dragging his tongue from the base of the head to its slit. He felt each little vein on the cock, and the muscle around it was just a little bit too tense. He kissed and sucked it and swirled his tongue around underneath it. "Gavin, you wanted to..."

"Yeah." He slowly took Connor's cock down to the back of his throat, relaxed and let it slip past, right up to its base.

"Baby," the android exhaled.

Gavin let out a deep moan. He was high as a kite. He switched to breathing through his nose, taking control of his instincts. The oxygen was still lacking though. He was hot, waves of sweat washed over his body with every thrust. Tears gathered in the corners of his half-lidded eyes. He was slipping further into bliss every time Connor's cock slid down his throat. The small of Connor's back was wet with the sweat from Gavin's palms where he was holding him, guiding his hips.

Connor took one of Gavin's hands and brought it to his lips. He kissed the knuckles, then spread his fingers and interlocked them with his own. He put another hand into Gavin's hair and tugged. Gavin moaned deeply with his mouth full. Gavin was so high, the ministrations barely registered in the periphery. The tug felt heavenly, though.

"Look at me," the sound was from the above, and Gavin opened his eyes. Tears were running down into his ears. It was hard to think, hard to keep his eyes open. The sight made him want the cock deeper in his mouth, so he pressed down the small of the android's back and swallowed. Connor clasped his hair. His hips jerked involuntarily, and he accidentally thrust harder. He looked down just to see an absolutely euphoric expression and Gavin's eyes half closing again. As if catching the idea, the hand on Connor's waste moved faster and guided deeper.

Connor found it harder and harder to control his thrusts. The clasp in Gavin's hair was tightening, as well as the android's grip on his hand, almost unbearable. It all felt too good. "Gavin!" Gavin's eyes snapped open. In Connor's look was a question and a plea, but the question was more important. 'Is this OK? Are you OK?' Gavin blinked and pulled him down, angling his head for deeper. Hot liquid flooded his throat. He consciously relaxed, not to clench his throat and let the cum down. Connor trembled and gasped. Shuttered breaths and tiny whimpers at every move of Gavin's mouth.

Oversensitivity hit, making Connor rise to his knees, pulling out. He was standing above him with his head in the clouds and his cock still in the dangerously close proximity to Gavin's mouth, trying to catch his breath or cool down his systems - more likely. Gavin slipped his hand down his own dump briefs. He lifted himself up on an elbow and took the android's softening cock in his mouth again, gently caressing it with his tongue and lips. Connor moaned, his legs shook, threatening to give out. With that glorious sensation and the view of Connor's trembling body above him, it took Gavin a couple of strokes to come. His ruined underwear was so irrelevant.

Connor finally let go of Gavin's hair and started kissing his hand silly. It was red and aching a little. But that was fine, too. He shifted down Gavin's body and lied down right on top of him. Heavy bastard. But stunning as hell. Connor's touch on his lips was soft and caring. His eyes were shining as he looked into Gavin's. He put a chaste kiss on Gavin's red lips and started kissing his tears away. Salty paths from under his eyes to his ears. Damn, that tickled! "You're beautiful." Gavin's voice was hoarse and soft. But it did the job. Connor beamed and kissed him again on the lips.

They made out in the shower, too, taking sweet care of each other. It was probably like 3 in the morning. Gavin felt sleepy to an extent where he could hardly keep his eyes open. But he tried his best. Connor was still a perfect work of art, Gavin was happy as fuck and he didn't want to miss a bit.

He was leaning back against the android's body. Gentle hands were patting him dry with a towel, and soft kisses were placed on the back of his neck. Drowsiness was getting overwhelming. He couldn't focus on what he was saying. So he asked: "Do I get to stay?"

"You're staying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's 12th performance left. I will either add the 4th chapter here or make it a series. timing is indefinite
> 
> thank you for reading! <3 <3 <3


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